


Do You Rekall ?

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Total Recall (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Protective Credence Barebone, Re Upload, Rewrite, alleyway blow jobs, also smokin hot colin too, but not really, confused puppy colin is my fave colin, mainly, minor infidelity, mmm, total recall fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Doug Quaid is a nobody factory worker in a world torn apart by corruption and greed, and the resistance, every day portrayed on the news like a plague to be wiped out, is working behind the scenes to try and overthrow the dictatorial regime ruling with an iron fist.





	Do You Rekall ?

**Author's Note:**

> re-upload/repost/reVAMP of my AU which i posted all the way back in november originally. now it has 3k more content, 100% more smut, and all the fun of a sci-fi romp with queer romance. yay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The dream had always been the same, for as long as he could remember; always the long white hallway, bright lights nearly blinding him as he ran, and a shouting voice he didn’t know, but he trusted.

A slender young seeming man with dark hair and wide brown eyes, clad in grey and khaki, with a gun nearly as big as his arm tucked beside a vest, and his hand outstretched, telling Doug to grab hold.

But the young man didn’t call him that. Didn’t say _‘Doug, take my hand.’_

Doug had a different name in the dream, with a smooth cadence when spoken, and the shout always grew louder as a flare of fire lit up the end of the hallway, from an elevator made of glass, and then a stinging pain in his hand, clutched with the other young man’s hand.

Doug awoke with a start, to feel the hands of his wife sliding around his back, and her lips pressed against his cheek,

“Another nightmare baby?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He sat up all the way, and then dropped his head into his hands, his heart still pounding, and with a neck and chest damp from sweat.

He’d been having nightmares for almost three weeks now, right out of another time and place it felt. One thing he always wondered was just who the other man was, the one who seemed to be trying to save him, trying to tell him something important, but he never could get past that point.

Seraphina had tried to tell him it was probably just stress from work, or maybe the fact he hadn’t taken a vacation in nearly a year or more, but Doug knew better. It was something else, something elusive.

He finally got up, there was no way he could go back to sleep now, and walked over to the end of their patio. It may have been a shithole of an apartment, but it had a hell of a view. He just wished there was more to their life together, more than just a mindless day job fixing the synthetics and waiting to clock out for a meager lunch and then back in for five more hours of sluggish boredom.

Sera almost had an exciting job by comparison, working in the news sector, she got to see up close and personal how things were to be improving for the labor sector, and she kept telling him she was sure she would be promoted any day now, and then they could move up a level.

The idea was very tempting, but Doug didn’t want them pushing beyond their means of support. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d checked their savings account.

“Have a good day at work, honey.”

She kissed him swiftly, and was out the door, leaving a cloud of flowery perfume in her wake.

He only winced in her general direction when he had heard the door close.

It was a bit much.

There was no more delaying, he needed to get going to work himself, lest he get in trouble for being late. As he walked to the tram station he swore he could feel a pair of eyes on him, but when he turned around, no one in the somber crowd was paying him any special attention, so he climbed on board, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, before shrugging it off.

Back to the daily grind.

 

* * *

 

Credence could scarcely believe it. He’d just gotten the lead to check out the lower level, what the uppers liked to call the ‘ _slums_ ’ though they were hardly that bad, and he’d seen him!

Percival Graves himself, better known to the resistance as just Graves, in the flesh.

It had made his heart nearly stop beating in his chest, and the urge to call out his name was itching the back of Credence’s tongue, wanting to go to him, let him know it was okay, he’s okay.

But the man before him looked so much different.

Not quite bent or broken, not like he was living the life of a prisoner of the state, but he didn’t walk like himself either. His hair was darker and longer, his face clean shaven, it made him appear younger, and he wore simple clothes, a collar free shirt and vest, with plain sneakers, no combat boots anymore. He looked well, but blank, as if something horribly central to his core being was just, missing. Erased.

The suspicion of Theseus and Tina had been right. Somehow, Chancellor Grindelwald’s people had gotten a hold of Graves, and though they didn’t have him on a physical leash, there was no way they’d just let him wander free unless they had absolute certainty he wouldn’t go running back to the resistance.

Credence followed him into the tram station, and watched as Graves boarded one that would cross the core, and into the labor sector. He took the next available tram, not wanting to be spotted by the man himself. There was a good chance he was being led into a trap, but he didn’t care. He _needed_ to know the truth.

By the time his tram arrived and began to empty onto the boarding deck, he could just barely see the other crowd shuffling into the workplace, being checked in by a scan of the wrist. There was no way he could fool those synthetics, so he lingered by the tram until he saw Graves pass through and disappear.

He would be checked out and take a lunch in three hours, as all workers were required to do such a thing. Before joining the resistance, Credence had lead the same dreary existence as the others around him. Now he was a part of something greater, and it was more important than anything that he get to Graves and ensure he could give a proper report back to Theseus and Tina

 _If_ he made it out.

  


* * *

 

  


Doug couldn’t quite believe what Newt was telling him. He’d actually spent a chunk of his hard earned credits to be given the memories of some fantastical life, where he lived in another world, and trained magical creatures for a living.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

Newt looked over at him and shrugged,

“Sure beats waking up to this every day. Now I have something better to go to when I fall asleep. Not just my plain imagination.”

Doug shook his head.

“I wish I could do that. Sera would kill me though.”

Newt snorted,

“Why? It’s not like you’d chose something that involved another woman…she trusts you. Leda trusts me. I didn’t go in there with anything but good intentions, and I got a great past _‘life’_ out of it.”

Doug tried to think about it, about what kind of scenario or story he’d like to be thrown into, but the second he looked away from the line, he felt a sharp pain on his left palm.

“Ouch, shit, goddamnit.”

Newt looked alarmed, and left his workstation to pull Doug back from the line,

“What did you do?”

Doug stared down at his hand, where he’d punched a nail almost straight through his palm, a perfect circle cut was visible for a second, before red began to drown it and drip down his skin.

“Fuck. I’ve got to go to medical. They’re not gonna like this.”

Newt bit his lip,

“Tell them it was an accident, the machine glitched. They’ll send you home early for recovery. Trust me; I’ve done something like that before.”

There was a kind of mischievous glint in the red haired man’s eye, and Doug grinned,

“Okay, sure. Thanks buddy.”

Inside the white and blue room, the synthetic nurse wrapped his hand up tightly, and gave him a small card, which held three pills.

“Take one every three hours; it will help with the pain and the healing process. You have been cleared to leave. Proceed to checkout.”

Doug thanked the machine, but it didn’t seem to care, or hear.

He tightened his hand into a fist, and surprised himself with how little it hurt. Damn good pain meds. Too bad they weren’t regularly available.

So much for having to worry about dreading the return after lunch, he supposed. He held up his punch card to the synthetic at the entrance to the factory and received a green light. He walked out into the street, and sighed.

He didn’t want to worry Sera by showing up so early, as she always got home an hour before him, and he didn’t know exactly how he would kill so much time. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he’d skipped breakfast, and he eyed the café down the block, it would do for a start.

Walking towards it, on the quieter side of the street, he thought he could hear the sounds of another pair of footsteps, but when he stopped moving, so did they. Was he going crazy or was someone following him?

He ducked into a side alley, and waited for a couple beats, then peered out behind the wall, seeing only a lone figure, shoulders hunched and head ducked, covered by dark fabric.

A hooded jacket.

Probably just some kid from the slums.

He turned away to resume walking towards the café, but then the figure broke into a sprint, and he nearly fell over when they hit him, throwing him back towards the darkness of the alleyway.

“Look I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t have any money on me, so you better go try to rob someone else.” Doug began, and the figure lunged for him again, with surprising strength, they pinned him against the wall with one arm braced over his throat and the other pressing a cold barrel that could only belong to a pulse pistol into his stomach.

His hands were already flat against the wall at his sides, but when the figure looked up suddenly, their hood fell backwards and the face of a young man was staring up at him. Big brown eyes, dark hair falling over his forehead, and a strangely full mouth that parted when he spoke,

“I’m not here to rob you, I’m here to warn you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Credence could see now, looking into Graves’ frightened and confused face that he had no memories of _him_ , or them, of the resistance, or anything beyond his perfectly implanted domestic life. There was no flicker of familiarity, no relieved smile at the sight of his fellow resistance fighter and former lover.

No glint of recognition in his eyes.

Nothing at all.

It was all a lie.

But there was no way to tell him that would lead to him believing a single word Credence said. His implant would have to be destroyed.

He stepped back at once, and Graves brought his hands back in front of him, clearly prepared to defend himself, but he was still facing an armed man, with empty hands, one injured, wrapped in gauze.

Credence couldn’t help noticing it was the same hand they’d both gotten shot during their last mission together before Graves had gotten caught.

He had then fallen off the grid, leaving only deadly silence and uncertainty in the wake of his disappearance. The best news Credence had to tell the resistance was that their prized ally wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t any use to either side at the moment.

“I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake.”

Graves frowned, and blinked,

“What did you need to warn me about?”

Credence pulled the gun away, and holstered it at his hip, locking it to the code of his fingertip, so there was no chance Graves could try and steal it to threaten him with. Not that he would.

“I just… I thought you were someone else.”

“Who?”

Credence’s mouth tightened into a line,

“Someone I cared about.”

Very much so.

Graves may not have remembered him, but he was still only human, and Credence was pressed very close to him, with no weapon now except his own two hands.

“I don’t have any money.” Graves repeated, sounding a touch short of breath, and Credence, why, he knew that tone better than anyone. The man was nervous, perhaps his elevated heart rate was from more than fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. They’d had more than one tryst after a successful mission, and usually lost control of themselves in the moment, no matter the location. Here, where they were now, was abandoned, a dirty alleyway with no chance of being spotted by anyone but a fellow seedy understreet citizen.

“What if I told you there wasn’t a charge?”

“Nothing’s free in this world.”

Graves scoffed, retorting with the arrogance that could only come from loss of memories. He’d been the best spy once, the best assassin, working for the wrong side, until he’d met Credence. Now he was just a shell of the man he had once known. Still, his love was a smoldering ember that would not die until one or both of them did. He reached out, and Graves didn’t flinch, didn’t move but to draw breath,

“What about love?”

He was so close he could see the gold in the dark brown of Graves’ eyes, and feel the way his body was trembling, even before he’d put a hand on him. Oh, he’d always been weak to Credence’s touch.

“I suppose… I’m married.”

It was like a jagged knife driven between his ribs, the words, the murmured confession, in the very same tones that his first ‘I love you’ had been uttered with. It made Credence angry, that Grindelwald had chosen to take from them the one thing they’d shared before stepping into the fray, before becoming involved in a covert war that none of them had wanted.

“Is that right? Then why are you here, without your lady love?”

He allowed himself a moment of weakness, touching Graves’ arm, feeling the muscles twitch, and his fingers flexed, dragging down the length of it, ignoring his hand, the bandage a sharp reminder of what was real, true, to him even if not to his lover.

“I got off early.”

“Oh, you haven’t gotten off yet…”

Credence took the gamble, and closed the gap between them, gently pressing his lips to Graves’ own immobile form, feeling the very instant he melted, reluctantly giving in. he bit back a smile of triumph. The fake wife he had never kissed him like that, or touched him the way he liked it, because she didn’t know, or care to know. She was just doing her job, playing pretend. Credence knew every inch of the man’s body and exactly how to make him weak.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re too pretty to let get away.”

“What?”

Credence dropped down to his knees, slowly and careful, prepared at any moment for Graves to run, but he didn’t, he just watched, wide eyed and slack jawed, lips slightly swollen from the kiss, as he nuzzled his cheek into the man’s thigh. He could show off, undo the zipper with his teeth, but he wanted more hands on contact, so he set his palm over the bulge in Graves’ pants. So predictable, his love, he always got worked up from just the slightest touch.

“You’re hard.”

Graves let out some kind of noise that seemed to befit a man under extreme stress, not one about to have his dick sucked, so Credence was merciful, he didn’t tease any longer. He tugged open the zipper and unsnapped the button to pull out Graves’ cock, rubbing his thumb over the slippery head. Graves answering gasp was music to his ears, god, how long had it been since they’d been intimate?

Weeks?

Months?

Too much space in between them should have been a crime.

Credence dipped his head down, parting his lips to take in Graves’ cock, swiping his tongue across the slit and suckling gently, letting his eyes close so he could better focus. Every so often Graves’ breath would catch, or he’d choke back a groan, not yet letting himself reach for Credence, not willing to commit to the act, to touch him back. Like they were, he could pretend it was all in his head, against his will, and Credence was merely taking advantage of him, robbing him without stealing anything of value.

Unless one could put a value to an orgasm, and sometimes, pleasure workers did charge extra if someone wanted multiple. Credence hummed and smiled to himself, before moving closer, sucking hard, and putting his hands to grip the back of Graves’ legs, partly to ensure he wouldn’t fall over, pinned against the wall as he was, and also to keep their proximity. As there would be no doubt as to what was occurring, should anyone pass by, but they would hardly disturb them, with the sounds Graves finally let loose.

A proper low moan, and a shudder rippled through him, as one hand pressed flat to the back of Credence’s head, and sad as it might have been, his heart panged along with his cock twitching. He was already half hard in his own pants, his arousal urging him to start rutting against Graves’ leg, to seek out his own pleasure while taking Graves into his throat.

But it wasn’t about him, it was about them.

_‘All that remains is us, always and forever, fuck the cause.’_

Graves hadn’t meant the last bit, but it had been damned romantic to hear from the man, that rainy night, a month after they’d been working together and given into their feelings.

He knew the man was getting close, going off the fingers tightening in his hair, and he hummed again, low and rough in his throat, hoping to drive him over the edge, to bring about his ecstasy with the force of a raging storm.

“Please, please, please don’t stop…”

Credence didn’t, he kept on, and swallowed dutifully, repeatedly, as he finally felt Graves’ cock begin to pulse over his tongue and his thighs tensed under his palms.

When he pulled back to wipe his mouth on the back of a hand, he caught sight of the ghost of his lover, for a split second, in his haze of bliss, _Graves_ was staring down at him in awe, not some mindless drone created by the Chancellor’s minions.

Then it ended.

Graves shrunk away, his eyes filled with horror, and fright, as he fumbled with his hands at his pants, putting himself away.

Credence didn’t bother trying to argue anymore, or dare touch the man again. He got to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his kneecaps, and took off at a run. He tried his best to ignore Graves’ shouting after him, and subsequent cursing.

He didn’t really go far, he still wanted to observe him a bit longer, but it wouldn’t do to remain in such close proximity after that.

Graves could still have the Chancellor’s people watching him, so he pulled his hood back up and hunched his shoulders, as he’d been taught.

Credence watched as Graves, (or rather, his body but not his mind, because it wasn’t him, not really, but he couldn’t call him by his implanted name, he wouldn’t) made his way on shaky legs towards the closest eating establishment, and remained there for a good hour or two.

Credence’s own legs had started to fall asleep from where he was crouched on the fire escape of the building across from the block when Graves emerged, and now made his way back to the tram station.

“Dammit.”

Credence hated riding those things, even more so when he was tailing someone.

He couldn’t afford to let Graves take a separate tram, so he climbed aboard at the last second, and sat as far away from him as he could.

Back in the living and entertainment sectors, Graves didn’t take his normal route home, but instead headed for the main square, and Credence now had to blend in with larger crowds, still maintaining a sightline of his subject.

To his surprise, Graves continued on, past the usual bars and clubs on the main drag, and seemed to be heading for the Rekall establishment.

That could be a very bad idea. Credence pulled back, and climbed another fire escape to get off the street, before making the call for requesting backup, or follow up orders.

 

* * *

 

 

Doug wasn’t sure why he still hadn’t gone home, he knew he had a good bit of time before Sera would show up and ask too many questions, that he wasn’t sure he could possibly deny. He didn’t even know what the hell had come over him. He’d been prepared to be mugged, not sexually assaulted in an alleyway, blown within an inch of his life, and then left standing against the grimy wall, wondering what had just happened.

There was more, something Newt had said had crept into his mind, and just wouldn’t let go of him.

_‘Good intentions, better life.’_

None of it was real right? What was the harm?

Maybe there was a way to replace his bad dreams with something better, something short, not a real vacation or trip, but still pleasant.

He’d just ask about the different levels and pricing, and then come back for it another time, once he’d checked on the savings account.

“Hello, welcome to Rekall.”

An light and airy tone met his ears, and he turned to see a woman with purple and pink hair smiling at him from behind a broad desk, with the digital logo slowly revolving on the front.

“Hey. Do you have like a menu of what you can get? Are there any kinds of tiers of cost?”

The woman’s smile froze,

“It all depends on what story you want. Some are longer or more expensive than others.”

Doug licked his lips and looked around the building, only seeing one hallway leading to a broad set of double doors, behind which he guessed was the chamber where all the nitty gritty stuff happened.

“Is there any way I could talk to a manager or something? My friend Newt told me about this place…”

He trailed off when a rather heavyset man with bright green hair walked into view, exiting a door he hadn’t noticed, so flush to the wall it was designed.

“Newt Scamander? I remember him, the man who ended up dreaming of the suitcase full of beasts. A strange sort of zoologist. So he sent you? That’s excellent news. He’ll get a portion of your visit and _you_ ’ll get a discount on your visit. That’s why we always tell our satisfied customers…tell your friends, and spread the word.”

Doug looked from the receptionist back to the man, and shrugged.

“Okay, sure.”

“He’s with me, don’t worry about all that paperwork.”

The man nodded to the woman, and she stopped shuffling through a stack of papers, and the man came closer, taking Doug’s arm to guide him towards the double doors,

“What’s your name friend?”

Doug smiled nervously,

“Douglas Quaid.”

“Fabulous. I’m Jacob. I’ll be in charge of your evaluation and your procedure. So tell me, what kind of life do you want to live?”

Doug eyed the room, and most importantly, the ominous chair that sat before him, behind which was a wall of chrome scattered with white lights, and beside that was a computer bank, monitors glowing blue and lines of white text scrolling constantly.

It all looked very impressive, but he still wanted to know how much exactly he would be paying. When he voiced his concerns, Jacob waved a hand around and said it would all be taken care of, and the bill would be sent to his door once Newt helped finish his own program.

“Now, what’s your fantasy? Rich and famous? Adored by millions, desired by all? Oh, no maybe not that last bit,” Jacob eyed Doug’s wedding ring, gleaming on his hand, just above the edge of the bandages around his palm, “How about super-spy, secretly working to help destroy the resistance, right hand man of the Chancellor himself?”

Doug blinked, and nodded at that, it certainly held some appeal. He wanted nothing more than to toss his ring away, feeling guilty for even letting someone else see it when he’d just shattered everything it represented.

“I think so, yeah. I like that one.”

Jacob grinned and clapped a hand on Doug’s shoulder,

“Excellent. Please, have a seat, we’ll start the evaluation, because as you know, none of the elements of your _‘Rekall’_ can have ever happened to you, otherwise it will interfere, cause a glitch, and possibly melt your brain.”

He rushed out the last bit of the sentence, and he was smiling, but Doug was caught between protesting and promising he’d never done anything of the sort, when two ladies, possibly nurses of some sort came to flank him. Then they guided him towards the chair, one checking his pulse and the other preparing a needle attached to one of the computers. Then the other was placing two glowing pads on the side of his forehead, and Jacob was moving to the other side of the monitors, typing commands with a practiced sort of ease.

“Sorry, but this is still the most efficient way to put things in the human body,” one of the nurses was saying, as she carefully eased the needle Doug had seen before into his forearm, expertly having located the most prominent vein.

“It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”

He tried to smile, but Jacob was saying something, even as the other nurse had pressed a button in front of the main computer.

“Wait, wait, the brain scans are showing you have an implant, some kind of a memory suppressant… who the hell are you?”

Before Doug could react, or even do more than protest with a weak gasp of,

“What?”

Jacob was shouting at the two girls to stop the program, to pull out the needle, shut it down, but a searing pain lanced over Doug’s forehead and he jerked away from the hands trying to yank at the glowing nodes and when the migraine had lessened, he looked up at found the green haired man staring at him in shock.

“You’re a goddamned spy, for real! Do you know how dangerous that was? You could have died!”

Doug opened his mouth to argue that was insane, he was just a nobody, when the double doors opened with the force of multiple feet kicking them, and he looked over to see a virtual army of police and synthetics, armed to the teeth, and without a word of warning, they began to open fire.

 

* * *

 

 

The second Credence’s ears caught the sound of gunfire; he knew something had gone terribly wrong. Theseus had told him to stay put, and escort Graves home if needed, but now, he was going to have to step in.

But by the time he climbed down the fire escape, and carefully snuck inside the building, pulse pistol drawn, he walked into the chamber to find Graves alone, surrounded by two dozen dead bodies, synthetic and human police force alike, with a police issue laser-gun in his hands, before he seemed to notice it, and then dropped it with a clatter.

“What the hell just happened?”

Graves was murmuring, most likely to himself, up until he looked over, and caught sight of Credence, who quickly lifted his hands, to show he meant no threat.

“Doug, is it?”

The man wearing Graves’ face nodded,

“Yeah. I think. What are you doing here? Have you been following me?”

Credence crept closer, slowly stretching out one hand cautiously, nodding,

“We need to go, we need to get you out of here.”

Graves glanced at Credence’s hand, and then back to the carnage strewn around him, and then sighed,

“Holy shit. Okay. We’re doing this.”

Credence had an escape plan, and a vehicle for emergency use, but it was hidden away, in the parking garage of Graves’ new apartment complex.

Unfortunately the man seemed to be more than drained, and weighed down by what he’d done, accidentally or not. Judging by the way he still looked at Credence, the memories had not come flooding back, but something had triggered the fighting skills of the spy, while leaving the lie of a normal man still in charge of his consciousness.

The implant wasn’t completely destroyed, not yet. Time would tell if any more of Graves was seeping back into his mind.

“I can’t believe what I just did.” The man was saying, and Credence winced,

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, I’m sorry I wasn’t faster.”

The man eyed him, with something caught between suspicious and smug,

“I don’t think I would have needed any help. I mean, I’ve never thrown a punch in my life. But that… was amazing.”

Credence found himself smiling, probably for the first time in weeks, but it still felt wrong, because it wasn’t really his fellow fighter and… spy, beside him. Not yet.

“I’ve gotta get home and tell Sera what happened. I’m not sure if she’ll believe me, but if I’m in danger, so is she.”

Credence nearly shouted at him,

“No! You can’t trust her! She’s not who you think she is.”

Graves looked at him with confusion,

“ _I’m_ not what I thought I was either, but she’s still my wife, and I’m going to keep her safe. No matter how much of a shit husband I am.” that seemed more directed at Credence than anything, and he couldn’t help wincing. He wished he could take it all back. He hadn’t meant to do something that would wrack the man with so much guilt, but it was too late.

He pulled away from Credence and began to pull open the door to the apartment complex, which he didn’t even know they’d arrived at until _‘Doug’_ moved to scan his hand on the elevator, and it swallowed him, leaving Credence behind to watch sadly.

“I’m going to have to kick that bitch’s ass aren’t I?”

He asked aloud, directed at nobody in particular, and he sighed, before turning to go towards the back of the building, where all the balcony overhangs were aligned, like a kind of giant staircase.

“Perfect.” He mumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

Doug walked into the apartment in a daze, his mind still reeling as his head ached, and he found Seraphina already there, watching the television display with a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t spotted him yet, and he could see the destruction of the Rekall building he’d left behind, only just having missed the second wave of police and press thanks to the young man who’d followed him, _again._

He wished he had had more time to ask just who he was, and why he was following him, and why did he seem to know more about him than what he didn’t know about himself? Also the blowjob thing, that needed a goddamned explanation too.

Jacob had said he was lying about not being a spy, and that was why something had gone wrong, but that was not possible! There had to have been some kind of outside interference, and _that_ had fucked up the machine.

Sera spun around and cried out when she saw him, her cheeks damp with tears.

“Oh my god, you’re okay! Newt called me and told me you’d been hurt and you were coming home. But when you didn’t show after an hour, I got so worried. Then I see this on the news?”

She pulled him into her arms, and he hugged her back, not quite as frantic.

She was trembling against him.

“Yeah I’m okay.”

Why _had_ the scan showed a brain implant?

Why would Newt have called _her_?

Something didn’t add up.

His eyes flitted to the clock displayed on the newsfeed scroll, and he realized she was home earlier than ever, even though he’d been free since lunchtime.

“What are you doing home so soon?”

Sera tensed, just slightly, as he could feel his blood run cold, when she leaned back to look at him, eyes blinking back new tears, and her hand stroking the side of his face. Something was very, very wrong.

“I was worried about you. All those nightmares you’d been having, and now this injury at work? You’ve grown unfocused, distracted.”

She leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, and he could taste salt from her crying.

His own eyes didn’t close, even as hers did, and he glanced over to the balcony just in time to see a figure land soundlessly over the edge… hunched over, and they were pressing a finger to their lips.

It had to be the younger man.

The nerve of him, following him to his _home_ was almost infuriating, but it didn’t halt the sensation that he could feel virtual walls closing in on him.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and he looked her right in the eye,

“The news is saying it was a terrorist who attacked those men, with explosives and guns, but it wasn’t.”

Sera blinked, her expression melting from concerned to confused,

“What are you talking about? Were you _there_ , at that Rekall place? Why?”

Doug squeezed his eyes shut,

“Yes, but it’s not important. What I’m trying to tell you is that it was me; I’m the one who did that. I killed those cops.”

Seraphina burst out laughing,

“What on earth? Did you hit your head when you hurt your hand too? That’s ridiculous. You must have just spaced out, had another dream or something. Always daydreaming. That’s how you hurt your hand, not paying attention.”

Doug shook his head,

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never even held anything but a nail gun before, but when these guys surrounded me, it was like something inside me just clicked. I’m so scared. I don’t know why this is happening to me.”

Sera’s mouth formed a pout,

“Okay, if you say so. It’s okay. We’re gonna get through this together. I’m just glad you’re okay baby.”

She shifted her hold on him, one arm sliding around the back of his neck, the other rising up his ribs to meet it, and suddenly her grip was crushing him, and he couldn’t breathe right.

“Sera, honey, you’re hurting me.”

“Shhh, it’ll all be over soon.”

“No, stop, what are you—”

Doug really couldn’t breathe now, and his vision was starting to blur at the edges, but just before blackness could take over, he saw a dark shape move up behind Seraphina, and then she was falling off of him, and air rushed back into his lungs so fast he felt his headache.

“Holy shit. Sorry about that.”

It was the young man, he’d hit Seraphina on the back of the head with something, with the butt of his gun, he realized. For a moment, Doug just stared down at her collapsed form, she was still breathing, but there was a smear of blood on her neck, her blond hair messy.

“Why the hell did you do that for?” Doug found himself asking, mildly delirious, and still unsure what the fuck was going on.

The other man sighed, and held up his hands again, lifting the gun out of his reach but also pointing it so it couldn’t hurt him, finger off the trigger.

“Look I’m sorry, I couldn’t just leave you with her. She just tried to hurt you. She was gonna knock you out, and take you back to the Chancellor, to have your implant replaced, or maybe have you killed for good, I don’t know.”

Doug winced as another arc of pain spread across his forehead, and he pressed his good hand against his temples,

“What? Why would he want me? I’m no one. I’m just another employee in the factory.”

“We need to go before she wakes up, I’ll explain everything on the way, I promise.”

The young man was reaching out, palm extended, and Doug stared at it for a moment, before looking back up to his face, and he felt something slide into place, he knew him… somehow. Like out of a dream. It was crazy, utterly insane to go with him anywhere, how could he possibly trust him over his wife? But he saw nothing but sincerity on the younger man’s face, so Doug sighed, and relented.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thankfully the car was exactly where he’d left it, but _unfortunately_ it was being swarmed by tenants and miscreants. Credence rolled his eyes and withdrew the control pad, flicking his thumb over the security symbol.

Electricity arced over the surface of the car, throwing everyone off of it, and beside him, Graves let out a low whistle,

“Nice.”

It was a stolen and refurbished cop car, painted over in chrome and red instead of the black and blue that would have given it away, but yeah, it _was_ pretty cool. It had improved mag-clamps, which he suspected might come in handy someday soon.

“Get in.”

Graves did as he was told, without arguing, another big hint that he obviously wasn’t himself, Credence thought to himself bitterly. Once safely buckled in, Credence floored the car the second the area was clear, pulling them up into common airspace, just below the upper level, and then turned to sneak a look over at him.

Graves was still looking shell-shocked, as if all his memories were still trickling in.

“I’m Credence Barebone, I’m with the resistance, I work for Theseus Scamander, with the Goldsteins, and so did you, up until two months ago, when you fell off the network, after I lost you on a mission. That's what you really did. Before they caught you and scrambled your brain.”

The man beside him shook his head,

“That’s crazy. I’m just Doug Quaid, and I’ve been working at the new factory for three months, and before that I was in the transport department, helping repair vehicles like this one. I’m not who you think I am. I just let you knock out my wife, who I’ve been married to for seven years. She’s really gonna kill me when she wakes up.”

He looked as if he still couldn’t quite believe what he’d done; rather the same as after Credence had walked in on him at Rekall.

Credence wished he could offer some words of comfort, but there really wasn’t anything. Seven fucking years of marriage, for the seven months he’d been captive by the Chancellor.

“That may be what they’ve made you _think_ , with that implant of yours, but none of it is true.”

Doug blinked, and squeezed his eyes shut, looking as if he was in pain, before his eyes opened again, locking on Credence,

"I know you… I don't know how."

Credence sat up straighter, excitement flooding his veins,

“You remember? How much do you remember?”

“I don’t know… that’s all I got. Flashes of something that could be memories, or just my nightmare. This whole thing _is_ a nightmare.”

Credence sighed, disappointment returning,

“Look, the reason I need you is the latest intel we’ve collected. We traced the message you left for yourself in your bank, which means we only have a bit of time before the other side knows about it too. We couldn’t get in and destroy it, not without your information and your, uh, fingerprints and eye scan. We need to check your old apartment. The key is there. We’ve gotta beat them and get to it first."

"Message to… myself, what?"

"It's a key, it's the final tool or weapon, if you will, for the resistance.”

Credence got lost in thought as he watched Graves process what he’d been told, but then he remembered himself, and turned his eyes back to the skyroad.

The man frowned over at him,

“I don’t understand all of this. How do you know about the implant? Were you there, listening in during the evaluation at Rekall?”

Credence shook his head,

“No of course not, like I told you, if I’d been there sooner, I would have helped you take out those cops and synthetics. I know about it because it was one of the many theories about what happened to you. Both Theseus _and_ the Chancellor know you’re too valuable to just kill off. Grindelwald wouldn’t do that without first trying to extract what you know. But it seems like _you_ managed to make a copy of it, in case they got to you, and made you forget everything, which it looks like they did.”

“And what is it? What do I know then, that’s so important to these people?”

Credence sighed,

“You, before you were this,” He waved a hand wildly around the cockpit of the car, before continuing “You caught a glimpse of _the code,_ the program that the Chancellor has to shut down the synthetics, in the event of an organized AI rebellion. Luckily for him, it’s the humans that started the rebellion, but he plans to use the synthetics to wipe out the resistance, that’s us, and then blame it on a technical glitch, before destroying them all too. Crash bang boom, the Chancellor is the hero the world needs all over again, and he gets to start fresh, no more pesky rebels to fight off.”

“Even if that were true, how could I have possibly gotten that sort of information, even accidentally, just by working in a factory?”

Credence groaned, frustration flooding through him, causing him to have to turn sharply to avoid another car,

“You _aren’t_ just a factory worker. You’re _Percival Graves_ , the man who turned the tide of the rebellion and brought hope to the resistance by betraying the Chancellor and joining us. God I hope that implant hurries up and finishes disintegrating.”

The sound of an alarm began to blare, and Credence stiffened.

“What’s that?”

He turned to Graves, or Doug, still, and just stared at him for a moment,

“Really? Never been in trouble with the law? I doubt that.” he smirked, more to himself than for the man’s benefit before explaining,

“It’s the cops, they’re on us sooner than I thought they would be, but your ‘ _wife_ ’ must have recovered quickly. Hold on.”

 

* * *

 

 

After the wildest car chase Doug had been witness to outside of a digi-film, he realized that somehow, most of, or a _lot_ of what Credence had told him had to be true. He wasn’t just a nobody, or so many police wouldn’t be on the hunt for him. Unless…Sera had taken him at his word, and simply called the cops on him when she woke up.

He fought back a groan. She’d been knocked unconscious and as far as she knew, he had been the one to do it, after having confessed to murdering nearly two dozen other cops.

When the car came to a stop, or more of a crash land, as Credence had deactivated the mag clamps, and sent them plunging towards the lower level, with barely any warning. Doug had only just clipped his second seatbelt on fast enough, he looked over to find the younger man out cold from what had to be lack of a cushion from falling.

“Goddammit.”

There were only about half a dozen people who had witnessed the crash, far less than normal, as it was still before the end of the work day, so Doug quickly climbed out of his side of the shattered car, and then hurried over to untangle Credence from the wreckage. As far as he could tell, he wasn’t seriously injured, but he couldn’t be sure as Credence was clearly unconscious. The screen in the front dash of the car was displaying a map, pointing out exactly where they were. It wasn’t a slum side of town, but it wasn’t rich either.

It held an address, and according to the map, it was just a few blocks away.

His old apartment, supposedly.

He memorized the name and the number, and then hefted the younger man into his arms, trying to breathe steadily. Credence wasn’t all that heavy, all slender limbs and sharp edges, but Doug hadn’t carried anything that fragile and unwieldy that wasn’t an inanimate object outside of work in, well, ever.

He reached the building soon enough, studying the name of the street, and the complex had graphite letters stamped on the side of it: _‘Woolworth.’_

Fancy.

He walked up to the front door and momentarily panicked.

Such a nice place like that would definitely have some high security.

He freed one hand and pressed his palm against the glass.

A soft tone sounded, and the rim of the door appeared, glowing green.

“Welcome Mr. Graves.”

Doug blinked, stunned, and then quickly yanked the door open and hurried inside.

If Credence was right, they were probably already being tracked and even followed. The elevator was the same procedure, and he pressed his hand to it to gain access. At that point he just wanted someplace to put the younger man down, and hoped he wasn’t hurting him further by having moved him after the crash.

He recognized the apartment number from the dash screen, and moved towards it, still wary. He only had to grab the handle, and it began to open automatically, so he carefully stepped forward.

It looked abandoned, and seemed empty, but there was a decent sized couch right in front of him, so he immediately went to drape Credence over it, pausing only to check his pulse before turning his back on him. It was a bit erratic, but steady enough. He wasn’t bleeding or hurt anywhere obvious, so Doug hoped he would recover after a bit of rest.

Walking around the apartment in a daze, he let his hand trace over pieces of furniture, here and there, feeling a sudden warmth infusing his body. He could remember being there. More flashes of images crossed his mind’s eye, along with a flare of pain across his temples.

Doug collapsed at the piano which dominated the room, directly across from the couch, so he could at least keep an eye out for when Credence began to wake up.

He tapped the keys absentmindedly, and the tones were soothing, not out of place. Before he knew it, he was playing a full melody he didn’t even know he knew.

The final key stuck, and was dull.

He tapped it harder, and nothing changed.

He leaned in closer, and tugged on it, and it popped right out.

Doug blinked down at it, murmuring to himself.

“A _key_. What if it’s not for a door?”

He stared at it for a moment, and then pressed it back down onto the piano, feeling it click back into place just as if it hadn’t moved, and then a tone sounded, before a bright light rose up in front of him, it was transparent, a hologram.

“If you’ve found this, it means someone reminded you where it was, or they’ve discovered it, and I don’t have much time, so I can’t answer all the questions you may have, but if you’re seeing this, it’s good, and bad.”

Doug was staring in shock, as the face that was speaking through the hologram was _his own_ , hair a bit shorter, several days’ growth on his face, but unmistakably himself.

“I know the implant has been deactivated or destroyed somehow, so you might not get it all back at once, but you need to know three things. First and most important, Credence is one of your closest… allies, and you can trust him with your life, because he trusts you with his.”

He sighed, looked down and shook his head, almost sadly, before looking back up at the camera, “Next, you know you must get to Theseus or the Goldsteins with this key, or with yourself, they will need to see you as soon as possible.”

At that, the recording paused and, and his hologram self seemed to be looking around, concerned.

Doug asked, desperately,

“What’s the last thing?”

The recording of himself seemed to look right through him,

“You can’t believe anything the others tell you.”

The screen turned into static, and the hologram collapsed, leaving Doug staring at the blank piano top. Before he could think better of it, he plucked up the key and put it in his pocket.

“Oh god, my head.”

From across the room, Credence was finally stirring.

Doug looked over at him, digesting the words that he had just heard come out of his own mouth.

“Can you see okay? Remember what day it is? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Doug got up from the piano and moved to stand before him, and held up a hand, two fingers extended.

Credence smiled slowly,

“Of course. I think I just forgot the stabilizers. That’s my bad. We shouldn’t have landed that roughly.”

Doug bit back a nervous laugh,

“You think?”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize… you saw it? You got the key?”

Doug nodded, and patted his pocket, watching the way Credence’s eyes darkened, brown eclipsing into black,

“So you know?”

His voice was low, a rasp, and Doug saw his throat move as he swallowed.

“I don’t know everything. The memories are still hazy. But the important thing that I said, was to trust you. You’re someone special to me.” Clearly, there had been a lot more going on when they’d run into each other before. Doug actually felt his cheeks heating as he recalled _every_ thing about the alleyway. Credence had snagged his hand before he’d noticed, and brought it down, pressing it against his cheek, turning to kiss his palm, the uninjured one.

“Percy… we don’t have much time. Promise me, somehow you’ll find your way back.”

Doug knelt down, and put himself dangerously close to Credence’s face, his gaze narrowing to the pink plush lips, and a flicker, another moment in time slid into place.

He’d taken him over a desk once, against a wall, then a third time in a bed properly, slow and teasing until they both shuddered with need.

“I’m here, right now. What can I do?”

“Hold me.”

Doug leaned in, and kissed Credence, before he could think better of it. There was no innate sense of wrongness, no unfamiliarity, only a spark of warmth traveling between them, and arms wound around his neck, as he was kissed back with fervor. He put a hand to Credence’s waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of his shirt and jacket, feeling how he inhaled sharply at the contact, fingertips grazing bare skin. So soft and smooth, he wanted to see it, wanted to be able to touch more.

“Do you want this?”

Credence’s voice was ragged, his eyes fluttering between wanting to close to the world and remain open to stare at him, he suspected, as he felt the same. It was all too good to be true, but something he’d never known he was missing.

“Yes. God, yes.”

“There’s gotta be something around here.”

“In the bedroom.”

Instinct told him that, so he stood up, and brought Credence with him. He wrapped his legs around Doug’s waist, clinging to him, letting himself be carried away from the couch and towards a hallway he wasn’t sure of, but trusted his memories. The flickering didn’t change, didn’t become clearer or more hazy. The second he was able to set Credence down onto the sheets, he wanted to spread him out, laid bare, and never stop touching him.

But he knew they had limited time, and there was a good chance that it could be their last, so he did his best to efficiently undress them both, and the second he returned, to kneel onto the bed, in between Credence’s legs, he captured his lips with another kiss.

“Please, please, fuck me.”

Doug’s heartbeat skittered faster in his chest at the plea, and he could only wonder how he’d ever thought he was happy, living a lie, no matter how short of a time it had been. The love they shared was the most real and true thing in the whole goddamned world, he could see it in Credence’s eyes, and feel it, in the pang in his chest.

He reached down and stroked over Credence’s cock, dripping onto his stomach, and the sight of his lover arching closer, jaw dropping from the sensation was enough to make him fully hard in response. He let go of Credence only to trail his fingertips lower, past the silky soft skin of his balls and to press between his legs, feeling instinctively for the tight muscle beyond, making his lover let out a groan.

“In the drawer… there should be stuff…”

Doug didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to look for, but the second his hand moved and he yanked open the bedside cabinet, he felt a tube. Of course. Now he understood. Even as Credence writhed beneath him, patiently letting himself be worked open with a finger then two and three, Doug decided that now that was his favorite thing in the entire world, listening to his lover fall apart, before he’d even dared touch himself.

“You’re teasing me Percy.”

Slender legs braced at the sides of his hips, and Doug, well, Percival was who he was, he knew he should start getting used to that, stroked over his cock, adding more slick to his heated length, ensuring there would be no pain or discomfort for Credence, before withdrawing his hand, and putting it to the bed. He lowered himself down for a searing kiss, as he lined up his cock with Credence’s prepared hole, easing inside slowly, unable to hold back a gasp at the feel, it was like nothing he’d ever known, or thought he knew, until now. That was not their first time, or even their third, it could be the only one, before the world ended.

So he moved quickly, feverish with need, shifting away from Credence’s mouth as he rolled his hips, kissing and nipping at the side of his jaw and neck, marking pale skin with his attention, his wordless adoration and fondness.

Even if the feelings weren’t truly his yet, he wasn’t fully Percival Graves again, he would be soon. Credence clenched around him, and cried out, going slack under him, as his climax washed over his trembling body, cock spilling between their chests, making a mess he wanted to clean up with his mouth, if they had time.

As it was, he was far too close, too fast, so Credence just held on as Graves came, pulsing deep inside him, almost collapsing over him, fully sated and gripped with mild exhaustion.

Alas, there could be no soft words of comfort, no tender embraces and lingering touches, they needed to move, to prepare.

Graves shifted back, wincing at the soreness in his thighs and knees, apologies on his lips already, before being kissed swiftly away.

“Don’t worry.”

Credence staggered away, and vanished into the bathroom for a few moments, before returning with a warm wet rag, wiping off his chest and then folding it over, carefully cleaning the sweat from Graves’ neck and chest.

“You’re-”

“I’ll be fine. Go on, let’s get dressed. I don’t know how long it’ll be before they track us here.”

 

A siren began to wail interrupting Graves before he could argue, and Credence winced as he covered his ears before shouting,

“What the fuck?”

Credence tossed the rag away and started to tug on his clothing, faster than he probably should have, swaying a little, but Graves caught him with one arm, sacrificing that ear to the noise.

“They’re here. We need to go.”

“No shit!”

“I don’t have any more ammo.”

Graves grimaced,

“I don’t know what to tell you, there’s no guns here.”

Credence smirked, and Graves’ stomach flipped over,

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you do. This is your place. I know you keep an arsenal here, I’ve seen it.”

Graves looked at him, still a touch confused, but he could swear there were more memories just simmering and waiting to be set free.

“It’s in the kitchen. Why you never cooked.”

The conversation was in the same language, but Graves felt like they were speaking about different things. Once re-dressed, Credence guided him into the other room, tossed open the pantry doors, and revealed an array of laser rifles and pulse pistols.

“Damn okay, _I’m_ overly prepared.”

Credence laughed,

“Something like that. Now grab one or two, and let’s go.”

He seemed recovered enough to be walking on his own, so Graves dropped his arm, and replaced the empty hands he was so used to with a gun in each, and they both shared a glance with each other as the siren cut off. The police had to be on the same floor now, so no more need for scare tactics. Credence’s gaze was inscrutable, but there might have been something like affection in it.

“Come on.”

Credence jerked his head towards the balcony, and Graves followed, as quickly as possible.

The front door seemed to explode inward as gunfire ripped it apart.

But Credence and Graves had already crossed over into the next apartment, and made a run for the elevator.

 

* * *

 

 

They had gotten away, just barely, and after Credence hot wired a nearby resident’s car, they took off for the underground tram, which would take them back to the resistance base.

Doug, or Graves, he supposed he could be technically thought of now, was appearing less and less like he didn’t know what was going on, and looking slightly more comfortable with a gun in his hand. Credence decided he liked it, even if he wasn’t quite the same man he had known. Or wasn’t yet again.

Once safely past security and aboard the tram, Credence handed Graves a gas mask, warning him they’d need it before crossing the outlands.

“So this guy Theseus, he can help me remember who I am, if I give him this?”

Graves held up the key, the USB stick that had been disguised as a piano _key_ , and Credence nodded.

“Of course. I mean he’d do it anyway, even without that. Because it’s still your mind, in there somewhere.”

He got stuck looking at Graves again, trying to will him to remember, as if that would work, and when he spoke again, it started him after so long of a silence.

“You know me well enough to have been at my apartment, even when I was a spy. How long had we been, working together?”

Credence smiled, shrugging. If Graves was asking about their affair, and the estimated lifespan of it, he couldn’t be sure anymore. They had fallen into bed together as easily as breathing.

“You could say that. I mean, I don’t want to like, make you feel weird by just telling you what you were like…before. We started sleeping together after a successful mission. Things just went from there. I guess that’s why I was so shocked they’d given you a _'_ m _arried life’_ kind of bullshit implant.”

Graves was frowning, and moving closer, as if trying to put all the pieces together, but then the tram was slowing, screeching brakes activated.

Credence sighed,

“We’re here. Put that on.”

He nodded to the mask, which Graves had been clutching in his other hand, while his gun was tucked in his vest.

Inside the resistance base, Theseus and Tina both emerged from the lower staircase and made a beeline for the two of them.

“I can’t believe you’re really here, with Graves!”

She was saying, and Credence winced,

“Hold on, he’s not quite himself yet, he needs our help. But we have the key too.”

Credence watched as Graves allowed himself to be strapped in another chair, much like the one in Rekall, only now with the intent to get back his true self, and not try to drown in a fiction.

It only took a few moments as Theseus typed away at his keyboard, carefully ensuring the implant was no longer blocking any functions.

When the pads were removed from his temples, he leaned forward, head in his hands, and Credence tried not to sound too uncertain as he asked,

“Graves, how are you feeling?”

The man looked up at him, meeting his gaze truly for the first time, and in those dark eyes, he saw the spark that he always did after every successful mission and recon.

“Credence…”

It was Graves, truly.

He got to his feet, and Credence threw his arms around him, feeling the warmth and strength returned.

“I missed you so much.”

He thought he could feel Graves pressing a desperate kiss to his cheek and he felt tears stinging his eyes. Now it felt _real_ when they touched.

“Me too.”

“Now we can just upload the key, since you brought us an extra copy, without having to poke around any further in that head of yours.” Theseus was saying, and Tina was smiling, standing beside him, nodding at Credence and Graves, who finally separated from each others embrace.

“Uh yeah, great.”

The second Theseus placed the stick into the computer, Graves grabbed Credence’s wrist,

“Wait. The Rekall program interfered with the memory replacement, but what if they can still track me?”

Credence looked to Tina, and before he could say anything, the front hallway blew up.

Graves was thrown backwards, and Theseus and Tina vanished behind a cloud of smoke. Credence wished he’d thought to bring the masks with them inside, but they’d been put away after stepping inside the sealed building.

“Run!”

Tina’s voice could be heard screaming, and Graves yanked Credence’s hand before he realized what was happening.

It had to be the Chancellor’s men, synthetics and cops alike, and if he didn’t know better, he thought he saw Seraphina standing among the wreckage too, before they vanished behind a wall.

“We have to get back into the city, from there; I can hack into the program from the factory. _That’s_ why Grindelwald put me to work in there, it wasn’t just for the job, I was there because I was safest there, not knowing I could shut down the whole place.”

Credence could hardly believe it, but it made a strange kind of sense. Without his spy knowledge, Graves had just been another human interacting and repairing synthetics.

“And then we blow it the hell up?”

Graves looked at him with a familiar grin,

“Hell yeah.”

 

* * *

 

They barely made it back to the tram without being spotted, without masks, they had to hold their breath from the acrid pollution, but from there it was a quick ride back into the city.

The night was almost over, and the factory would be opening back up very soon.

They just needed to lay low and wait for morning.

Graves turned back and found Credence watching him,

“What?”

“You just, I, it’s been so long since you’ve actually looked at me through those eyes, I almost thought I would never see _you_ , again.”

Graves smiled at his lover,

“I think I was always in there, somehow, deep down. How could I ever really forget you?”

He took Credence’s hand, and squeezed tightly.

They could see the sun slowly rising over the horizon, bleeding pink and orange across the sky.

“It’s beautiful, and just think, in twenty-four hours, we’ll all be free.”

Credence turned to look over at him, and Graves saw his gaze dip down to his mouth,

“There’s no one I’d rather have at my side than the man I love.”

Credence nodded solemnly, and then leaned in close, pressing his lips against his own.

Graves smiled into the kiss, and wrapped his arm around Credence’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest, and for a moment, they could forget the upcoming battle, and focus on each other.

 

 

 


End file.
